Broken Lullaby
by Wildeve of the Heath
Summary: Ymir has many skeletons in the closet, perhaps one too many. Only Krista can enter it; what she finds is impossible to lock away. Modern!AU
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin

Broken Lullaby

Ymir has many skeletons in the closet, perhaps one too many. Only Krista can enter it; what she finds is impossible to lock away.

Modern!AU

A/N: I didn't like where the original story was going so I decided to rewrite the entire thing in a new plot. I will be reusing various passages, but overall, it is a new plot. Please enjoy this version.

First chapter isn't meant to have a specific POV but the rest will be told in Krista's POV.

* * *

Renton - Washington

The storm that brewed the night before had come into full force.

For years this dreary city had seen many a rain that battered its gray streets. Now empty of its residents, the streets were cleared for only the waters to rise and race through the gutters and asphalt. Waves buffeted to and fro and obscured the lanes, leaving only a murky river filled with the oils of vehicles.

Winds whipped endlessly, causing the street lamps to waver in their places; whatever light they can shine poorly reflected off the silver. Even as the sun was the highest in the sky, the clouds kept its rays hidden. Almost like the night, the haze of the water blinded any poor soul that dared to brave the elements. One soul that feared greater things walked on, ignoring the tempest as if it were a mere pestilence, though it wasn't, it nearly knocked her small form over the pavement several times.

Of all the things that was expected to appear today, no one wasn't expecting to open the door to see the face of a young girl.

Her features were fair, eyes a deep cerulean and her hair plastered to her face; even if she wore a hood, she was still unprotected by the elements.

Historia's hands shook in the cold, having been soaked to the bone by the waters.

She stared hard at the shorter woman, her thoughts suddenly recalled who she was- she gave her a concerned gaze, sympathetic almost.

"Miss Reiss, what're you doing here?" Ymir let out as she stood at the porch, the rafters above her gave her shelter enough from the world.

Historia trembled under all those layers. "...I don't know where else to go."

"I doubt I'm the best to come to, do you have any family left? Friends?" She listed off.

Historia shook her head. "They took everything from me, I no longer have them."

Ymir opened the door wider for her, she reached out a gloved hand to her shoulder and ushered her inside of the main entrance of her home. It was a fairly large two story home situated at the far end of town, a place where Krista had to brave the rain to go so far out. Situated on a large spot of land, it was set apart from the others though it wasn't so far out from the nearest general stores for needs and necessities.

The establishment known as the 'Langnar' was an expansive building, filled with long halls curtained by red velvet, all of it led to large or small rooms. Use of such rooms depended on the crowd's size, the Langnar had enough rooms to hold at least three or four events at the same time though times like these allowed only one person to coordinate a few.

Inside, to where Ymir ushered Krista about, the main entrance hall was decorated rather simply.

Given the people who came here were from all walks of life, Ymir tried to keep a neutral decorum yet hold a good amount of professionalism. She kept the lobby clean with a few sofas for guests to sit at, tables to where drinks and food can be placed at were polished to a shine, and along the walls were paintings, collection Ymir had found over the years.

From the last time Historia was here, she remembered Ymir was the sole occupant of this place. How she worked efficiently and so well was beyond Krista's imagination, but in the end, experience could be accounted for. Surely there were more workers but Krista had never seen them the last time she was here.

She took Historia up a set of stairs that had led from the main lobby. Up there, where customers are not permitted to enter given that the second floor was Ymir's private home, there was a second, smaller lobby, though not as large as the grand room below.

Stepping up on the last set was like leaving the Police Box in that one British show. She was immersed in a retro room as though it were a living flashback from the Great Depression. While the room was large, the decoration filled it up. Furniture of old days, desks and dining sets from old days, even a grandfather clock acted as a centerpiece among the old trinkets.

Most notable was an old tube tv, about twenty inches, was rigged in a living room space. She settled her bad by a couch and was startled to see animals that were mounted on stands, a wolf, a bear, and a cougar; the bear stood upright in a menacing pose, the wolf had its head swung back in a graceful howl, and the cougar held the most neutral look thought its dead glass eyes were stalking Krista.

It was at the living room, next to a fireplace that was dead, that Ymir aided Historia out of her coat.

"Strange of you come to me, out of everyone," Ymir commented as she took the coat to a rack by a door.

Historia was wearing only a pullover with jeans, her shoes were soaked through, just as the rest of her clothes. Ymir examined her up and down, she looked like she didn't want to help her but her usual glare had softened up as Krista didn't answer to her last statement.

Ymir went off into one of the hallways for a minute or so, then returned with a towel and a fresh set of clothes that were almost fitting for her. After all, she had a plethora of them stashed away in storage.

"You know where the bathroom is, change yourself and get dry, I'll make you some tea," Ymir told her.

Historia silently sauntered off, going off to the bathroom that was closed off to guests.

A half hour passed, Ymir was still waiting at her couch, flippantly going through the list of contacts in her address book. There were only two contact numbers to that had any ties to the girl- one was the girl's own number and the other was the girl's father, a powerfully rich man by the name of Lod Reiss. Whatever issue that had transpired between him and his daughter, it resulted in Krista landing in the street.

A few weeks ago, Ymir was attending to a viewing, making sure the grieving had enough to mourn over the loss. The only ones that went to attend the sorrowful event was Krista and that man, Reiss.

Ymir had walked in on them to remind them that the viewing only had until four in the afternoon, as was the agreement. But she found them fighting, something about illegitimacy and inability to inherit anything, there was more too. It was quite the fight but Ymir knew best to stay out of it. The girl ended up storming off, she had the gall to run upstairs and into the private bathroom.

She didn't merge from it until her father decided to leave.

It was the same one the girl was fixing herself in today.

The sound of a door opening brought Ymir to snap close the book.

Tea was already set on the table, awaiting for Historia to take a hold of it.

She seated herself on the couch opposite to Ymir's, she didn't touch the tea.

Both were silent for a while, Ymir leaned back, arms folded on her chest, one leg calmly crossed over the other.

The address book was left on her right.

"I'm no longer Historia Reiss," Historia began, voice wavering.

Ymir raised a brow. No surprise there, she knew the recently deceased was murdered but she had no idea that the girl before had an involvement. "Witness protection?"

"Sort of. I...I was forced to renounce my name because of what happened to my mother. As a result, I am not able to see my father or my step-mother, family, friends, anyone. I was going to lose everything if I fought for my life, so I decided to leave it altogether and start anew."

Ymir softly chuckled, Historia glared furiously, having been mocked with her choice in life. "So you chose to run to a funeral home. Kind of ironic, finding new life in the home of the dead."

"If you don't want me here, I'll leave and head elsewhere-"

"No, no, no," Ymir said sincerely,"please, stay here. I do live alone and I don't have an assistant. Given that few come here, I doubt anyone would come looking for you in this place. I have to say, you're quite smart in picking a place to run off to, and I won't argue against your choice."

Historia seemed to relax, she grew less tense and was finally able to bring herself to sip at the tea that was set before her. She gingerly sipped away.

"Are you a minor?"

"I'm twenty," she answered between drinks.

"So no worries and less of a hassle," Ymir concluded, relieved, her lips slightly curled at the corners, it was almost too charming of her; she was trying her best to be as warm and welcoming as possible. "I am willing to give you a room to stay until you get on your feet to continue on. You have to work with me, so you'll have to be accustomed to...the dead here, are you willing to work?"

She nodded.

"Good. I'll leave you a day to yourself, Miss...?"

Historia brought the tea away from her lips, the dry taste of herbs had soothed her throat, her dull eyes fell unto the liquid that filled it half way through by now. She deliberated on her new identity, staring at the darkness within the porcelain cup. She was quiet for a moment, then a name surfaced from it.

"Krista Lenz."


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin

* * *

"Here is your own living space, don't mind the animals," Ymir advised her as she took her to a room perpendicular to the bathroom.

Krista, now wearing new clothes with her own wet clothes being dried in the bathroom's tub, followed her, staying at arm's length away from her. The oak door swing open to reveal a room filled with animals, each of them stuffed by a taxidermist. A deer's head was hanged just above the headboard of her bed, to the right of the bed was a desk to where a gray-horned owl was perched quietly, watching out the window.

It was still pouring outside, a torrent of endless drear there to haunt her.

She shivered as she stepped in.

The room was clean and well-kept.

A wardrobe was standing opposite to the foot of the bed, a row of sparrows lined the top to watch over the sleeper.

Other than that, the room wasn't creepy, not one bit. Krista sniffled as Ymir turned on the lights, telling her,"The heater is broken so don't bother trying to warm this room up."

"It's alright," Krista said, she went over to the bed to run her hands over the sheets.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine."

Ymir smiled softly down at her, something about those eyes made Krista fidget in place. She wasn't used to being looked at that way. In fact, she didn't like to be looked at at all. She cast her eyes to the carpet, trying to ask if it had anything interesting to say.

She heard Ymir move about, turning heel for the hallway.

"I need to attend to Mrs. Lovelace," Ymir suddenly announced,"would you like to come with or do you want to be alone for now?"

"Is she dead?" Krista asked instead; she didn't want to be alone, especially in a cryptic place.

It was stupid of her to do so, after all, Ymir just told her she lived alone.

"Much like a doornail."

"Oh..."

She followed Ymir once more, going down the hallway. It was a quiet place, eerie, but where else would she go? Again, this would be the last place anyone would look for her, if they bothered to. Being here, it felt like she was meant to be here, regardless of what happened in this place. In the midst of crisis in her life, she chose this over anything; she was lucky that this tall woman was willing to open her home to her.

She remembered when she first encountered her.

Krista had to book the services alone, which was ironic to her on her part.

When she stepped in, she found Ymir at the front desk, twiddling a pen, absolutely bored. When she spoke, she had a bit of a charm in her voice, contrasting that glare that seemed all too judging. Her eyes, usually cold, held a spark in those honey flames, like she had been reignited with an interest in life. Krista fumbled through her papers, signing the proper documents and gaining a death certificate (it hung in her father's study at home now).

At the viewing, Ymir clung to the shadows, listening to her father say prayers. Krista kept her sights on her, that aloof expression changed as though she were watching some show, an entertaining show. She held a sly smile, whatever went through her head was beyond Krista's imagination. Oddly enough, she had a sense that Ymir enjoyed her job, though at the same time, she felt that she hated it.

When Krista fought against her father, arguing about the inheritance, Ymir was nowhere to be seen though she must have heard the words flung left and right.

Upon being discovered in the private bathroom, Ymir was sincere, calming, and she knew what to say just enough to coax Krista out. It was there that she felt she could trust Ymir, it was strange.

That was why she went to her.

"Ymir," Krista started while they went downstairs.

"Hm?"

"Why do you work as a mortician?"

Ymir contemplated her words, she let out a thoughtful "Hn" until she found the words,"It's been in my family for years. My father was an embalmer back in our town, so was his, he owned a funeral parlor. Then when he and my mother passed on, my older half-sister took over. Disagreements came up, so I studied my way to get my own license, then found myself working here for Berwick as an assistant. He moved out, the whole place came into my hands. So now I'm here, ten years later. It's all I know how to do."

"You've been doing this your whole life then...must be depressing being here," Krista slipped out, she tried to catch herself but Ymir chuckled.

"No, it's not, there's a lot of entertainment. The beauty of the deceased is that they make great listeners."

Ymir may have had a few screws loose.

"You prefer that than the living?"

"Of course, the living are a pain in the ass to deal with."

Alright, maybe not.

To Krista, it sounded like it made the most perfect sense in the world.

They were on the ground floor, passing by the empty grand rooms. In one of them, it was used as a display shop to where various caskets and grave markers were stored. Krista glanced to a window out to the right, outside was an extension of the building to where flowers were sold; it was a small hall that was always cold for the preservation of the plants.

It was funny to her that such bright foliage was cared for in a home to where the dead are also attended to.

"Where are you from?" Krista had to ask, she wanted to know more of her new caretaker, though no doubt she would be asked similar questions later on; she was in her place to ask anyway given that Ymir had nothing to hide.

"I came from a small town, about an hour or so south of Spokane," Ymir recalled. "It's called Deliverance, nothing special about that place. It's more dead than a cemetary really, and the people...it's too old for my tastes."

"Yet your private floor looks like- uh, a grandmother lives there."

Ymir huffed. "My tastes are good. I guess I always carry home with me where I go."

"Must be nice with all the trees there."

"Tch, fucking trees," she grumbled.

The rest of the walk brought them to a set of two escalators. Ymir pushed the button to one and they both waited for the steel doors to slide open. Krista shifted about once more, keeping her space from Ymir.

Ymir mused out of nowhere,"Back there, for the most part, we had Catholics and Christians come in, but when I went here, I had to take up religious studies to be more versed in other rites and whatnot."

An intellectual, Krista had to be impressed.

"So do you know any languages?"

"I can speak a few, I have an understanding one a couple, though at least a majority of people coming in speak English. If you're going to be my secretary, you might have to know a bit of French, Korean...some Japanese too, I'll give you a list when you're up for it," she said, fingers listing off the languages.

At her time in school, Krista was hammered to the wood with French, so that wasn't a problem much, though the rest were just too foreign to her. "I know French."

"Good, very good," Ymir praised her,"so you're not just a pretty face."

Krista felt the heat flush to her cheeks despite the insult.

Before she could retort, a ding from the elevator told them to walk in.

Inside, the lift was quite large as it was meant to carry up and down bodies on gurneys.

"It's quite weird, I never brought a live woman down here to show her what I do," Ymir said, though she tried to hide her snickering as she pressed the button. The doors slid close. "They usually keep their eyes closed, I think they're scared."

Ymir was the embodiment of morbid humor.

Krista shook her head and she laughed under her breath, the noise ghosting over her lips.

Inside, it was incredibly cold, she felt goosebumps rise under her shirt. She crossed her arms to ease the tension.

"Down here is where they are stored until their final rest comes. There's also a crematory in the door opposite of here, don't go in there unless you're with me," Ymir instructed, Krista nodded as the doors slid open to reveal what appeared to be an underground mockery of the medieval times. The structures had columns that wound up to the ceiling, a statue of an angel was what greeted her.

Surrounding the angel was a vast rotunda of double doors that lead to separate rooms. There were six in total. Each one dedicated for Ymir's job.

"I spend most of my time down here," Ymir stated as she guided her to a room on the far left.

Krista would learn the specifics of the others later on.

Ymir opened the doors to one hall heavy with perfume and a mix of some other chemical, it was a mix of the sick and pleasant scents. The hallway opened to a room and inside that one, half a dozen tables were laid out, slabs to hold the bodies. Three on each side. There were little stations for cosmetics to the right of each table. This was the final preparatory room.

Two of the tables were occupied with blankets covering them.

Ymir walked on though Krista kept her distance.

"They won't bite," Ymir said jokingly as she sat on a swivel chair next to the blanketed form of a woman.

Krista edged over to her cautiously, steps slow.

"Don't worry, most aren't disfigured horribly. Besides, Mrs. Lovelace has quite a beautiful feature."

She eventually stood by Ymir's side, breath held tightly. Ymir went to snap on a pair of latex gloves, it was natural to her.

"You're lucky I went upstairs to get a drink, else you'd be stuck in the rain and I'd be the one doing your make-up," Ymir noted as she gently lifted the blanket up and over, keeping only the waist down covered.

She revealed a woman in her early twenties, perhaps around Krista's age. She was a brunette and, by Ymir's definition, was beautiful indeed, even in her eternal sleep. She wore a black dress with frilly straps, all of it made of very fine fabric, silk. Her eyes were closed, Krista imagined her breathing for a second, there was a moment of awe in watching her.

Krista stepped forth by Ymir's shoulder as she got out a kit, taking a brush to bath in concealer.

Ymir moved her head towards her and set to work, clearing out the blemishes of scars from pimples.

"She was married a few months ago when she was diagnosed with cancer, terminal...she decided not to go for treatment and here she is. The man was quite distraught, he paid more than he could afford for her," Ymir distantly told her as she ran the bristles under her eyes.

"She really is beautiful," Krista echoed.

"Hnm...it's gonna be a change for me, talking to someone that's alive."

"You must have been here for too long."

"Too long," Ymir repeated,"and then more."

Ymir efficiently worked, her long fingers were deft in bringing the woman back to life with each passing moment.

"What do you usually talk to them about?" Krista asked.

"Nothing in particular, just the little things. Sometimes about the news, other times about what I did that day-" A smile crept on her face. "-sometimes we gossip about the others here. Mrs. Lovelace here thinks that Katheryn two drawers to the right is a total bitch."

Krista couldn't help but smile with her. "Must be lively then."

"It gets rowdy in storage. Janet is single and wants to hook up with Mr. De Bois, but the man wants to be put to the ground faster, he gets impatient, y'know."

It sounded like Ymir spent her entire life speaking to imaginary friends. Imaginary dead friends. Each of them with their own quirks.

Even in a room full of people, Krista knew the reality of it, Ymir was alone, truly alone, though she didn't seem bothered by it one bit.

Perhaps an hour had passed, Krista had brought another chair to watch her work over that time. By the time she was done, Mrs. Lovelace looked like she was getting ready to wake up. She was amazed at her skill, it surpassed her own even though Ymir didn't look like the type to know anything about cosmetics, she never wore them herself.

"She's scheduled for tomorrow," Ymir said, she pointed the lip gloss's brush at the other in front of her. "Then him is next week."

Ymir snapped her gloves off and discarded them to the trash after covering up Mrs. Lovelace.

Apparently she only used honorifics to those who are married.

The singles and children were addressed by their first names.

She stood up, causing Krista to promptly do the same. The room fell silent once more.

"I'm pretty starving now, some soup sounds good," Ymir muttered to herself.

"It does," Krista agreed with her, she was still cold in the basement.

They made their way to the elevator.

The rest of the day was taken in Ymir's living area, sitting in front of the tube television and watching the news for background noise. Krista had slowly slipped into being comfortable in her new sanctuary, her legs up and crossed as she sat on the same couch as Ymir, though she took one end. In front of them were empty bowls.

For the most part, subject about Krista's reasons for being here weren't said, at least Ymir had the decency to not talk about it too soon. Krista was still fresh from her ordeal and while she was somewhere safe, she needed time to recollect herself. Over her shoulders was a blanket, she curled into the cushions even deeper to stay warm.

Eventually, the soft murmurs of the television set lulled her to sleep as she and Ymir fell into silence.

As she drifted off, in the corner of her eye, she saw Ymir reading an address book.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin

* * *

The sound of a bell chiming reached the upstairs, pulling Krista out from slumber.

She was used to sleeping in and, given she had exhausted herself from her walk in the storm, she had slept deeply. Her hand rubbed away at the crusting sand in her eyes, she groggily got up and noticed a slip of paper on her nightstand. She reached for it, reading the scrawls and squinting to make out that they formed words.

_'Lovelace family is arriving at eight in the morning, if you wake up until then, wear something nice for the next six hours. Pick whatever in the wardrobe- look decent'_

The clock blinked 10:30.

Ymir dropped by earlier that morning, Krista stared at the paper; it unnerved her that someone was in her room while she was asleep. If this would be a repeating occurrence, she may as well accept it. She left the note at the table and went over to the closet to find that there was a plethora of black dresses, formal wear. She pulled a few out, the materials were either abrasive or too large.

It took her a minute or so to find a silk dress that fit her well.

She went to the bathroom, took off her clothes and slipped the dress on to examine herself in the window. It was decent, the perfect attire for a solemn event, she simply brushed her hair through, not bothering to put it up; black was always a good color on her. She went back to the room to check the floor to get a pair of low heels, she put those on as well, not really accustomed to such a thing.

She was used to wearing flats on special occasions.

She found a shawl to throw over her shoulders, good.

Krista stumbled left and right for a moment, then, after plodding through her room, she found the perfect balance.

She took a deep breath.

It wasn't every day she dressed herself for a funeral, or viewing, whichever happened to be scheduled for today.

She ventured out to the hallway then met her first challenge of the day- stairs.

Krista stared at each step, immediately imagining herself fucking up on the last few steps and then falling face first to the ground. As long as she kept her hand to the railing, she should be fine, right?

Every move down felt like something was drilling into her feet, she bit at her cheek to stop herself from groaning.

Some time later, she managed to get to the first floor, she was surrounded by mourners who were there for Lord knows what. She scanned the crowd, trying to find Ymir. Lo and behold, she spotted her at the far end of the hallway, hands folded behind her back; she was dressed finely in her dress shirt and vest, then black slacks. She wore a ruby bolo tie- even her style of attire was out of date.

Krista weaved her way through the crowd, somehow she got to her side.

"Finally up, are you?" Ymir said, she sounded unimpressed.

"You said to take the day off," Krista murmured.

"Whatever...next time, help me set up the place. I had to be up since four to make this place look welcoming," she complained more than stated.

She nodded off towards the main doors to where there was a sign and portrait of the deceased.

"So...is this a funeral?"

"Viewing first, then around noon they'll start the burial," Ymir informed her, she had a cheer in her voice. "Do you like parties?"

Krista looked up at her, head craning in confusion. "Parties?"

"I find them fun."

Krista stayed quiet, she couldn't find a way to retort for her.

Before her, men were grouped together, as were the women, though they were split between the young and the old. Anyone who looked like they were close to Mrs. Lovelace were probably in the rented rooms for the view.

Krista shuffled her feet, they hurt just a bit, the stinging was numbing her. A soft hum came from Ymir, Krista softly inquired,"Where's Mrs. Lovelace?"

"She's currently at the viewing but-" She fished into her vest pocket to where a chain had snaked inside it, the end of the tail was clipped to a button hole, she slipped out a silver pocket watch. "-in an hour she'll be buried."

Krista slowly nodded as the watch was stowed away. "Is this all you do? Watch the progression?"

"Make sure they're comfortable too," Ymir added,"no fights this time, so lucky me not walking into drama."

Krista grimaced and looked to the floor. Ymir would probably not stop bringing it up out of whatever her reasoning was.

The murmurs from the crowd was endless, time passed, and the pain of her feet grew. She shifted her weight alternatively, keeping to herself; such an occasion was different than what she was used to at the usual teenage parties. She was used to music playing, people laughing, and dancing, though here it was just a bunch of mourners in silence. It was foreign though she found herself liking it more than the former...

...if it weren't for the damn heels.

She plodded off in her room at the end of the burial; the whole event was done by three and Ymir had left it for the diggers to finish the job.

Krista never got to see who they were as Ymir simply called them up by her cell phone around the early noon when the sun was blotted out by clouds.

Other than that, Krista sat herself on her bed and shucked off her heels, wincing in pain when she discovered there was a nice bubbling bruise on her big toe. Krista rolled her eyes, she didn't even want to look at it but she definitely knew what she would complain about the next time she got the chance.

Her stomach growled, she hadn't eaten yet.

She got out of her dress and went to the wardrobe, looking for new clothes; nothing. A set of drawers underneath opened to reveal casual wear, like jeans and a sleeved shirt. She put them on and slipped into some shoes, the only ones she brought with her.

Downstairs, she roamed the halls to find Ymir still dressed nicely, though her vest was removed. She was busy putting away the signs and flowers, when she carried a wreath of them, she spotted Krista.

"Help me put these back in the shop," Ymir said without greeting her.

Krista immediately set to work, after all, she was staying without charge, only playing the assistant was the best she could do to repay her. Hopefully she could work for her and earn money, then get herself on her feet. She had just run away after all. She took the other rose wreathe and followed Ymir.

"Had you eaten yet?" Krista asked Ymir.

"Now that I think of it, not yet. Once we're done I'll make us something," Ymir replied. "Once you get that back in the store, go take down the signs and just leave them at the front desk, I'll start something for us."

Krista sighed in relief. Food, she had been waiting for it.

She put the wreathe down next to Ymir's and licked at her heels quietly.

"Is there anything you're up to today?"

"The usual, most of them are already set and ready, they just need proper aesthetics. Can you do make-up?"

"...not really, I only know basic stuff, not like you."

Ymir clucked her tongue. "You looked the type to be into that sort of thing."

Krista never used make-up to cover her face unless needed to.

"Whatever, you're too pretty to need it anyway," Ymir said conversationally.

Was...the woman hitting on her or just being sincere?

Krista looked up at her in disbelief, Ymir had an aloof expression as if casually throwing out the words was like telling her what the weather was for the day. She didn't have a chance to speak up as Ymir went up the stairs and didn't stop. Krista snorted, nearly laughing at herself over that vague compliment. In her slight frustration, she took down the signs in haste and neatly, though slightly aggressively, she plopped them onto the desk, stands folded and leaned against the edge.

Once done, she rushed up the stairs, going straight for the kitchen on the right side.

Within, Ymir was wearing an apron, still wearing her dress attire; she must have been used to it that it went to a point of where she could wear formal every day. Krista leaned against the door, arms crossed over her chest.

"You're done?" Ymir suddenly let out as she was chopping away at what looked like mushrooms.

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't."

"Good." Krista made to leave her but she swore the woman had some inhuman ability to hear every single thing. "Stay here with me. I like talking to someone while cooking."

"You like talking while doing anything," Krista pointed out.

Ymir softly laughed as she let the mushrooms aside as she started working on this onion-like thing. She was peeling away the skin. "Ilse and I used to cook together, when I was little I would hang out and watch, as I got older she taught me things."

Krista gave a small smile, she suddenly let out her thought,"It must have been nice having a sister."

"It was, at times."

Ymir seemed to be the type to reminisce.

"Were you close to her?"

"We used to be," Ymir surmised,"then Mom and Dad died, things changed. Legal matters and all, though I think it was for the best, I just don't like how it ended between us but..."

Ymir trailed off.

Krista wondered what went wrong between them, though it wasn't in her place to prod. She had been here for less than twenty-four hours and already it felt like Ymir was telling her her life story.

"Ah, I forgot, you're not dead," Ymir said in shock, she turned around to make sure Krista was sitting at the small table. "It's a habit, I run my mouth whenever I'm with the departed. Great listeners and all."

Krista chuckled uneasily as Ymir gave her a weak smile.

The tall woman went back to cutting away. Once she was done, she had an oiled pot at the ready, she tossed in the chopped foodstuff and added some cream, she mixed away for a minute or so, then placed in a cup of some liquid. Krista widened her eyes and let out a huff, the woman was weird, just plain weird.

"We never talked much though."

"How can you be close to anyone who doesn't talk?"

"It was more of her watching my back," Ymir specified, stirring away at her work. She grew quiet, no longer wishing to partake in the subject any longer.

Krista lowly swung her legs from her height on the chair, they set up an easy rhythm, back, forth, back, forth...until Ymir tapped the rim of the pot with her spoon. She was done and Krista hadn't realized a quarter had passed. Ymir set up two bowls and poured the mushroom soup into them equally. She placed them on the table, each with a spoon, and sat down across from Krista.

"Smells good," Krista complimented her.

"It ought to be," Ymir said, priding herself in her job.

The cordless phone rang on the counter, Ymir immediately stood up to answer it.

As Krista ate away, she listened to the conversation.

"Langnar Funeral Home, this is Ymir, how may I-hm?...yeah, uh-huh. So that's what- oh...that young?" Her tone dropped, somber. "Understand...I see. I'll pick her up tomorrow morning, eight. Is that good? Alright."

Ymir hung up and sat herself down.

"Who was it?" Krista asked.

"Coroner, said a child died in Tacoma. Wants me to prep her for a funeral by next week," Ymir huskily told her.

That expression she wore. It looked slightly pained, somewhat angered- she was disturbed.

Krista didn't inquire any further.

-...-

The next morning consisted of knocking.

Krista rolled over in bed and sauntered to the door, half-asleep.

Rubbing her eyes and yawning, she found Ymir standing in the hallway, already dressed. "Yes?"

"Come with me," Ymir ordered rather than suggested.

Krista nodded, she didn't want to question her. Children must be hard on Ymir, in truth, finding a deceased kid would set anyone off and, at least, warrant some form of sympathy. At least Ymir was human.

Ymir turned heel, allowing Krista to get her clothes on. The weather was quiet and the day was cloudy, just like yesterday. She followed Ymir out to the garage on the far left of the building where three hearses, one black, white, and a sea green; each had the Langnar logo on the windows; it was small in the corner of the driver's side but it was noticeable.

Naturally, Ymir took the driver's side while Krista took the passenger's.

They took off, going on the road and then entering the freeway.

A smooth, soft jazz came from the radio, even Ymir's taste in music was ancient.

Krista reached to change the radio, Ymir didn't protest.

As she drew her hand back, she took sight of Ymir's knuckles and she gripped the wheel taut; they were whitening at the joints.

"Is something wrong?" Krista asked, the radio blared an advertisement.

"No, nothing at all," Ymir said between pursed lips.

The ride was spent in silence, Ymir seemed deep in thought- if she was knocked out of it she looked like she would lash out. Krista took to watching the scenery of green out the window, sighing lightly.

They came up into Tacoma, a city south of Seattle; they went down the main road and ended up at a rather plain building, nothing special and nothing noteworthy. Ymir went around to the parking lot behind it, there, numerous coroner trucks were stationed. Ymir took to stopping her hearse at one particular spot and got out, Krista followed suit.

She led her into the building, inside it was just depressing. White walls, white floors, white ceilings, even the receptionist behind desks were white. Ymir pulled out an I.D. card and was approved to enter the bowels of the facility, she then turned to Krista and told her,"Wait here."

Krista nodded and sat at one of the seats by the main door, twiddling her fingers idly.

She overheard a conversation from both of the receptionists.

"...poor kid. You know what happened?"

"Sasha said that she was strangled."

"Oh? Who did it?"

"Most likely the mother, alcoholic. She's being detained at the moment."

Krista felt her own hands clench. A kid...strangled to death

Her jaw clenched, she felt her blood boil yet it felt like a chill was washing through her veins. It was wrong, sickening, though she should be hypocritical to her own beliefs and morals. Her breathing hitched, it felt like the walls were closing around her and consuming her in white until the double doors at the end swung open, prompting her to snap her head up and look.

Ymir had a gurney wheeled by her, atop it was a white body bag that contained the unfortunate child.

Krista stood up, teeth grinding.

"C'mon," Ymir dully said.

They went outside. There, Ymir loaded the body into the back, her face blank though she seemed to be thinking hard again.

It was a quiet moment when she closed the door.

Krista wanted to speak to say something, but she didn't know how to put it to words.

She let out a frustrated sound, it was soft though it was enough for Ymir to hear her.

They got into the car and set out driving once again.

The radio was turned off.

"You feel it too, don't you?" Ymir's voice suddenly ripped through the suffocating air.

Krista turned her head to look at her.

Ymir was just as enraged.


End file.
